


A Kingdom for Two

by lovesickFrontman



Series: DreamSMP One Shots [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: BAMF Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Immortal Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Light Angst, Minecraft lore, Phil Watson-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Pig Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Soulmates, Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), The Universe Loves You, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), these guys love each other and only philza isn't afraid to show it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesickFrontman/pseuds/lovesickFrontman
Summary: 9 moments in time showcasing Philza and Techno's partnership as they endlessly explore together. (The Universe watches on fondly)
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: DreamSMP One Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190702
Comments: 19
Kudos: 160





	1. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning... of sorts.

******1.** Life is slow in immediate exile. This is a fact that Techno was not prepared for when he struck out with nothing but his horse, the armor on his back, and a measly inventory full of supplies.

The swoop of wings sounds from overhead as disturbed snow falls from one of the many nearby pine trees and lands with a soft  _ whump _ on Techno’s head.

_ Oh, and Phil, _ he internally grumbles,  _ how could I possibly forget Phil. _

When Techno decided that he was retiring from violence, the bird man had all but insisted that he tag along and help Techno set up his new base of operations. Techno had put up a token resistance, but they both knew that there was no chance of Phil staying at home nor Techno turning down Phil’s company.

As Techno marches through the snow-covered pine forest, he feels a wave of nostalgia for the Antarctic Empire. The long-passed ice empire had been the site of Techno and Phil’s first meeting. Two bundled up players digged through snow, ice, and brick to reach a stronghold where they would then plant the beginnings of their Empire and partnership in turn. They had looked at each other, the Piglin with all the intelligence and immortality of a player and the winged man with one life, and knew that they were far more alike in the eyes of the Universe than they were different.

_ That must have been years ago _ , Techno muses, distracted just enough to slip on an unexpected patch of ice. He stumbles briefly, glaring up above the treeline from which accented, lilting laughter mocks him. He spits a few empty threats up at Philza before continuing his march north, much more careful about where he steps after nearly eating snow in front of  _ Phil _ of all people.  _ Anyone else I could intimidate into silence _ , he internally grumbles. Techno knows from many trials and many errors that nothing Techno does could make Philza fear him. (He’d be upset about it more if it didn’t warm his heart just a little bit. Really not by that much. Like, a 5 second stint in the microwave. It’s not that big of a deal.) (It is.)

They continue their journey in easy silence for a while longer, time hard to tell through the dark pine needles and lack of watches. As much as Phil and Techno enjoy sharing banter and bouncing ideas off of each other, silence like this is no stranger to them. Sometimes there just isn’t much to say to someone who you’ve spent so many years learning inside and out.  _ Isn’t snow too cold? What’s your opinion on Hypixel’s massive server? What’s your least favorite subterranean block? _ They had covered all those topics and more. (Philza is seemingly immune to the cold. Techno, born a mob from the Nether, despises it.) (Philza doesn’t frequent those servers, as the universe-blessed power of the server precedes his own gifts. On Hypixel, his wings are useless, even if the multiple lives per server deal is a bonus. Techno enjoys the hustle and bustle of hundreds of thousands of players and the inescapable aura of Hypxiel’s power. He’s yet to enter a server that changes the wiry pink of his pelt nor the ivory curve of his tusks.) (Philza dislikes granite. Techno agrees.)

Time is a fickle thing to a player, whose very nature guarantees infinite youth. Philza himself is probably the physically oldest player Technoblade has met. After so many decades of traveling and working by his side, he knows that despite the winged man’s singular life per world, Philza is just as timeless as any other player Techno knows.

Out here, in the untouched nature of the forest, it feels as if he and Phil are the only people in the world. The voices in his head and communicator connected to the world chat are quiet. Like this, it’s just he, Phil, and the presence of the Universe, the world sprawling free in front of them, the possibilities endless. He fancies that they looked just like this back in the days of the Antarctic Empire, just as young and adventurous.

As the piglin steps through a break in the tree line and into the hilly, snow-blanketed plains of a new biome, he looks up to see the shadow of his companion wide and dark against the white afternoon sun.  _ Just me and Phil _ , he sighs, _ that’s all we’ve ever needed. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The Universe, pt. 1
> 
> Whoo! Feels good to be back. ::0  
> I've been working on this project for around a week now and I just could not wait to finish it all up for my own satisfaction and to show all of ya'll.  
> I've already finished up and edited all of the chapters (totals to around 6K words), so you'll be getting one part per day for nine days ending March 18th, 2021. (While typing this, my hindbrain is screaming at me about how I'll probably hear back from one or two of the colleges I applied to by then. Stay tuned in the author's notes for those I guess haha.)  
> Is there anything in particular you want to get from this fic or other fics in the future? I'm curious about what sticks in people's minds about my writing when they bookmark it or leave kudos. (typical prospective psych major over here).  
> However long has passed since I've written this and you're reading it through message in a bottle satellite signals, I hope you have a lovely tomorrow. ::)


	2. The Universe, pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of the nature of reality and how Philza got his wings.

When every player wakes up from some unknowable sleep standing in their first biome, face tilted up towards the warm sun, they know two undeniable facts: The Universe is the source of all worlds, and it loves you.

It’s hard to say where players themselves originate from, only that they all start feet buried in their first world, toes sigged into sand, grass, gravel, or dirt and the voice of the Universe softly whispering to them to explore, to survive.

They all start human, or at least what resembles human, and with one singular world in their name. As they explore, craft, and learn, their life force increases, and with it, their options. The Universe is a multi-faceted being, dark and deep and in possession of an infinite number of infinitely vast worlds ready to gift to its players, one only needs to ask. As a player immerses themselves in the many worlds of the Universe, time leaves them untouched and youthful, gifted with immortality in order to best indulge in the gifts of the universe. When a player grows weary and despondent, they fade overnight, leaving nothing but empty, once-inhabited worlds. Houses without any lights.

Philza is a very, very old player, yet you would hardly be able to tell by the shine of his hair and the stride of his step. Traits like the crows feet around his eyes or the scars of other players indicate experience, yes, but not age or power. One can have a great many impactful experiences in a short amount of time or vice versa. The only physical indicators of Philza’s time spent under the Universe’s care are the wings. Sometimes, when a player’s life force reaches a high enough swell, they can ask favors of the Universe. Favors like the traits of certain mobs, increased luck in item drops, or a multiplayer server of their own. In Philza’s case, it was wings. He was much younger than he is now when he made the deal, optimistic and fresh from thousands of days spent soaring endlessly onwards via elytra. The Universe gave him his wings and took from him his immortality.

You see, while the Universe is generous, it believes in consequences, in the innocently cruel give and take of life.  _ You cannot gain without taking _ , it would whisper in the minds of those players,  _ and you cannot give without losing. Is this a sacrifice you are willing to make? _

Philza said  _ Yes, it is _ . Nowadays he soars above all other players, knowing he is only ten broken little hearts away from being locked from any world forever, left peeking through the windows to see what he had once upon a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Close Call
> 
> Chapter 2!  
> As you've probably guessed, this isn't the typical Techno & Philza content. Throughout this pic there will be 3 parts detailing the nature of the Universe and the origins of players and servers.  
> Next chapter will be back to Techno & Philza interaction per the plan.


	3. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philza's past comes back to haunt Techno

They’re wandering through one of the local snow biome villages when it happens. Techno has his head in the doorway of an empty cottage, moving towards the chest at the back when Chat urgently hisses at him.

**Baby zombie what will he do**

_ Orphan obliterator do your job smh _

He feels his heart drop in his chest. Philza. Baby zombie. 

(Phil told him once, back when the Antarctic Empire was in its prime, of how he dealt with only having one life per world.  _ I’d build palaces _ , he murmured,  _ as many strongholds an’ floating underwater temples and spawners as I could _ . The man seemed oddly at peace with the inescapable impermanence of his creations, but Techno figured he had to be. If Techno had lost years upon years of effort and time to a baby zombie with bad timing, his options would be uncontrollable violence or acceptance.)

_ Fuck _ . Techno spins around, hand already alight on the Axe of Peace when he spots the small, unbalanced green-grey figure scrambling towards him, arms outstretched and small mouth gaping open. (Better him than Philza.  _ Always _ better him than Philza.)

“Philza, watch out!”, he shouts, fear sharpening his voice as he kicks the little bastard as far away from himself and Philza as he could. Quickly realizing the genuine emotion he had shown, Techno scrambles for emotional cover.

“Philza! PHILZA!” he roars, comically exaggerated panic rich in his voice as he strides forward to meet the smaller mob and cut it down with two quick slashes. It plumes into smoky nothingness and some rotten flesh, Techno’s Chat rushes with praise. He bends over as if exhausted and pants, hand not holding his axe now pressed to his left breast, feigning an all too real adrenaline rush. “That was a close one…”

Taking a moment to collect his emotions, Techno turns around with hyperbolic relief plastered across his face. Philza is standing a few yards away, posture relaxed and raven black wings tucked loosely behind him. He has one arm crossed in front of him and the other cupping his face in amusement, a small smile on his sharp, bird-like features. He’s not even touching his weapon. (A large part of Chat swoons in pride at his confidence in Techno’s defense. An even larger part shuts it down with a reminder that of  _ course _ Techno was there in time.)

“Phil, I don’t know what I would do, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, Phil. You’re all I have left.”

Techno learned long ago that if you say something honest with wide enough eyes, raised eyebrows, and a theatrical tone in your voice, people will assume you’re joking. He’s abused that trick ever since.

Phil snickers, walking forward enough to pat Techno once on his shoulder, a feat considering Techno has around a foot of height on the small bird man.

“Ah,” Philza agrees, cobalt blue eyes twinkling with mischief and understanding, “that was a close one.”

He pats Techno’s shoulder once more, thumb rubbing across the fabric of his cape, before he meanders back towards where he was investigating the inside of a different cabin. Techno exhales lightly, tension releasing from his shoulders as he turns the opposite direction to return to the house he had just dashed out of. He doesn’t know what he would do if Philza left him alone on this server, lord knows there’s no one else here even remotely tolerable.

(Later, Philza cooks mushroom and potato stew, Techno’s favorite, for dinner. He ruffles the tuft of wiry mane at the top of Techno’s head as he sets his bowl down.)

(Lost in the conflicting rush of Chat, a murmur mentions how this server,  _ Dream’s _ server, felt different than the others. Far more like the all-powerful realm of Hypixel than the weaker, less-invasive magic of the Earth SMP despite its normal appearance.  _ Don’t trust it, don’t trust  _ **_Dream_ ** .) (The murmur is lost in the waves.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Universe, pt. 2
> 
> Thank you for reading !!  
> I hope you find joy in something little you do today ::)


	4. The Universe, pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of Technoblade's origins

When Techno first opened his eyes and basked in the warmth of the Universe’s love, he was different from the other Players.

Wrapped in wiry pink fur and piglin skin, it's evident at first glance that Technoblade is  _ different _ . Long, droopy ears, intelligent maroon eyes, nimble hooves. No player is spawned with the gifts of the Universe or with anything other than that first world. Yet, there he was. In the quiet of his thoughts, Technoblade wonders if it was even the universe’s gift at all to be born the way he was. (He wonders if when he disappears he’ll disintegrate into a puff of smoke, rotten flesh, and a few gold nuggets. The other players leave nothing behind.)

Yet, like all the other gifts the Universe bestows, Technoblade’s nature is balanced. His piglin skull and stocky stature grant him intimidation towards enemies and friends alike, making it easy to be feared, easy to be alone. Easy to be _other_ , both good and bad. His unique physiology grants him bloodlust and a stubbornness for victory that's pathological in nature. While he’s never truly hated his need for war, he’s never had the opportunity to know anything else. He’s never been sure if his voices that called themselves Chat were attached to his piglin physiology. Despite how much he and Piglins share, they lack the complex intelligence and sentience Technoblade has in spades.

He never asked the Universe why he’s made the way he is, he doubts that it would answer. As a younger, obviously inexperienced player, his seemingly Universe-gifted appearance raised a few questions, all quickly quieted by misdirection and bloodshed on Technoblade’s part. (‘ _ No new player could fight the way he could _ ’, they said. Technoblade preened. The voices whispered for  _ more _ .) 

These days he’s powerful and old enough that no one questions  _ why _ his nature is, only how they can surpass it or use it to their advantage. Phil has never asked. Techno thinks the root of Techno’s nature never mattered to him, only that it existed. Philza takes his violence and his neuroticism and his brilliance and appreciates all of them equally; not because they’re good or bad, but because they’re  _ Technoblade _ . (One night, months ago, while Philza and Techno shared a campfire under the stars, Techno resolved that he’d tell Phil if he asked. To anyone else, the admission of his confusion and turmoil would be a defeat.  _ To Philza _ , Techno thinks,  _ it would be okay _ .)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Aftermath
> 
> Thank you so much for reading ! ::D  
> The next chapter is a doozy. Betrayal is an injury that lingers.


	5. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayal is a wound hard to heal. Philza and Techno talk about Tommy.

One night in late winter finds the two of them are shut safely inside Techno’s little cottage, leaned back comfortably on wooden chairs on either side of Techno’s round kitchen table. It’s a typical night in the snow biome, the window softly  _ swishing _ snowflakes in gentle spirals like dancing faeries. Inside the white and wooden cottage, the outside chill creeping through wooden window slats is tempered by the fire sweltering away in the furnace. On the table there are a few dirty dinner plates, a half eaten loaf of bread, and two wooden mugs partially filled with spiced apple cider brewed by Techno. Philza had been around when Techno was first workshopping the recipe and could admit that the drink had come far from the vinegar-scented, bitter brew it was originally. Sometime after dinner had been finished and the cider sipped, their conversation had turned towards the topic of the other players on the DreamSMP.

“Ranboo… Ranboo’s a good kid.” Techno begrudgingly comments, a buttered slice of bread held loosely in his hand that he nibbles on absent-mindedly. They had already discussed the unease that they felt towards Dream despite their recent partnership in the destruction of L’Manberg. For all that the man had been a useful and powerful ally, something was undeniably off about him.  _ It’s not our problem _ , Phil had decided earlier, Techno nodding in agreement,  _ with L’Manberg gone, it’s not likely we’ll see much of him anytime soon anyways _ . (Neither of them were aware of the extent that Dream has twisted himself around Tommy, taking Wilbur’s place in his absence. And how would they know? Tommy wasn’t telling anyone the full extent of what happened in exile, shame and fear bubbling up in his stomach. As much as Techno suspected, thinking of Tommy inevitably led to thinking about his subsequent betrayal, and therefore was not an option. He was over it, it doesn’t matter anymore. Not at all.)

Philza reaches out and takes another sip from his mug, the cabin silent except for the crackle of fire and the  _ swish _ of wind.

“Yeah, Ranboo’s good.” Philza pauses, considering the tall enderman hybrid. He was earnest and hard-working, always eager to pitch in. The lanky teenager had been hanging around Techno’s rapidly growing home base lately, rooming happily in the dog kennel after his home had been destroyed in the bombing. He remembers how he and Tubbo had shared a long hug and exchanged words on the outskirts of once-L’Manberg before Phil had lead Ranboo home. “He and Tubbo are close.”

Techno snorts in derision at the mention of the once president’s name, tearing a tad more viciously into his slice of bread.

Phil remembers the ecstatic look on Tubbo’s face when Ranboo had presented him with a fully alive Squeak. The ridiculously tall teenager had apparently sequestered some of the nation’s pets in a safe location on the day of the bombing, Tubbo’s pet fox named Squeak among them. It was a private exchange Phil had happened to catch a glimpse of while idly searching for Ghostbur. He felt like an intruder. After observing the quiet understanding and eagerness to please the other the two had shared, he had quickly looked away and continued to search for his son’s ghost.

Phil wets his lips, head tilting back to stare at the spruce planks of the ceiling. “They kind of remind me of us, y’know… back in the early days.”

At this, Philza peripherally sees Techno look up to regard Philza, who keeps his gaze firmly locked on the ceiling. After a moment’s silence, Techno sighs. “Yeah, they kinda do.”

Another pause, and Philza goes in for the kill.

“They’d be good for Tommy.”

Techno stiffens and Philza finally moves his gaze down to focus on the piglin’s conflicted, defensive expression.

“Why would you mention him,” the younger player cuts right to the chase, voice intense. “You know I don’t want to talk about that  _ traitor _ .”

Phil hums, mug raised once again to his lips. There’s a beat of tense silence as Techno’s ire grows, his maroon gaze drops to the bread he holds tight in his hands. Philza’s all too familiar with Techno’s mannerisms and knows to wait the silence out, posture purposefully relaxed.

“I gave him shelter, let him in on my plans, didn’t ask questions, and he threw it all away for the  _ government _ ,” Techno hisses quickly, “that abandoned him in the first place.”

“That’s true,” Phil begins softly before considering his words for a moment. “But, mate, we weren’t exactly the best place for him. He- Tommy,” Philza pauses again, staring deep into his mug and the shimmering golden ale inside, “Tommy was too  _ good  _ to stay with us forever.” At this, Techno slumps even more in his seat, well aware of he and Phil’s questionable morals and Tommy’s stubborn, do-good attitude. “It’s been him and Tubbo from the very beginning.” Phil reminds him quietly, very aware of the fact that it was just he and Techno sharing this dinner and conversation. (How this night had been mirrored thousands of times before, across time and space in the dozens of worlds they’ve shared.)

Friendship, companionship: that was something Philza knew Technoblade could understand. He knew the piglin would never put anyone else above Phil, no matter how welcoming or powerful. As much as it must’ve hurt for Tommy to have rejected Techno in his time of need, Philza knows that Techno would’ve done the exact same thing to Tommy if Phil had been on the line like Tubbo had.  _ Drain the wound, Techno,  _ he thinks, observing the silent contemplation of the other man.  _ Drain the wound just a bit and you’ll feel better tomorrow. _

(Techno thinks about the destroyed sub-basement and the shreds of yellow wallpaper stuck to cracked stone walls. As much as it hurts, Techno knows deep down that it couldn’t have worked out in the long run, not realistically. Their goals were destined to collide violently and Techno and Tommy were both unwilling to compromise their core values. No amount of friendship or care could overcome that divide. Silently, Techno dismantles the ruins of the room he had made for Tommy inside his heart.)

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Universe, pt. 3
> 
> Thank you so much for reading ::D


	6. The Universe, pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of the DreamSMP.

Multiplayer servers are one of the most common, low-stakes gifts players request from the Universe. Without them, each player would be an island, an astronaut floating in the space of their worlds only tethered by their connection to the universe. When a player grows lonely or desires more than the untampered nature of their isolated world, the Universe whispers to them the existence of servers, of places they can access no matter how old or young. It’s rather easy to join the servers of others, to transport the consciousness and body of the player across time and space to pop into existence in a shared world. (And yet, not every player does so. It’s for this reason that the true number of players are unknown. There could be thousands hidden away in solitary worlds, knowing nothing but the world they were born in and the love of the Universe.)

Much more difficult than to join a server is to host a server. To host a shared world requires a certain amount of power and experience as a player. The host player of the server acts as the keystone of the arch that is the server: with a weak player or oversized arch, it collapses. Knowing this, each server the Universe grants starts off relatively the same: an unremarkable world with ownership in the hands of the player rather than the Universe. It is up to the player, the keystone, to imbue the world with their own power, twisting the normally untwistable laws of nature as they see fit. The more powerful the keystone player, the more fantastical a server can become. One of the most commonly cited versions of a server reaching the heights of its potential is Hypixel, named after its keystone player.

From bending reality for the purpose of bizarre mini-games such as rocket spleef to hosting what seems like multiple worlds full of land, Hypixel barely resembles the average world. All of its quirks, eccentricities, and peculiarities come from the immense power of Hypixel. Long ago, he sacrificed so much of his accumulated power that the server itself’s power over reality is only trumped by that of the Universe itself, who looks upon the metropolis of its gifts with fondness. (Philza fell flat on his face the first time he tried to launch into the sky and fly with his wings. An amused onlooker with feline eyes and a sibilant rasp to her voice informed him that ‘ _ You’re not pulling shit in this server unless Hypixel himself allows it, kid. As much as the Universe loves us all equally and all that, it seems to show a lot more with him. _ ’)

Unsurprisingly, Dream is the keystone player for the DreamSMP. Dream himself is a strikingly powerful player, his age unknown yet his influence and popularity amongst players rivaling that of Technoblade, the legendary duelist. As far as anyone on the server knows, this is Dream’s first server and the world it inhabits is relatively unremarkable. The common agreement is that the extent of which Dream changed the server’s natural laws is unknown. The changes currently commonly agreed upon are the absence of End portals, the presence of the Egg, the magic of Canon, and the 3 Canon life system. (In a later time, the book of Resurrection would be murmured about, uncertain eyes glancing upon the black blot of the prison on azure water.)

Canon is a relatively uncommon magical rule sometimes imposed on serious roleplay servers. It heightens during moments when important decisions and actions are made, magic swelling suddenly where there was none moments before. The keystone player can direct the magic of Canon to power certain actions on a server, such as blacklisting a Player, permanently changing their physical appearance within the server, or binding players together. The 3 Canon Lives rule that Dream imposed channels the power of Canon magic generated through player death into draining one of two canon respawns a player possesses and leaving physical representations of their Canonical death on the player. (Quackity’s marred face, Tubbo’s shiny, dark pink burn scars, Fundy’s weak, water-bruised lungs). After being Canonically killed twice, those two canon respawns are used up, meaning the next canonical death would cause the player to be trapped in the space between respawns. (A dark, sightless place, where voices echo and space only exists tangentially. Where time passes oh so slowly and Wilbur sits, patiently setting up a game of solitaire.)

(Tommy heaves air into thrice-stilled lungs and Dream laughs and laughs and  _ laughs _ .)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Philza's Surprise
> 
> Hey ! Thank you all so much for reading and leaving kudos!  
> This now officially my most popular story by far. It even hit 1,000 Hits! Crazy.  
> Weird to think I only started writing fan fictions and publishing it around 2 weeks ago, I never thought that I'd get as much enjoyment out of writing it than reading it, but here I am.  
> There's something to be said about being able to create the story you want to read.  
> Have a lovely morning/noon/evening/night !


	7. Philza's Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno is scary, but not in the way you think.

It’s a sunny day in early exile, the snow-covered ground blistering bright and the air crisp.  _ A good day for working _ , Philza had decided earlier, setting up a massive wall of furnaces inside the confined space of Techno’s cabin. It’d probably be easier to set up outside, but that would mean standing around twiddling his thumbs in the cold outdoors as opposed to sitting around twiddling his thumbs in the somewhat-warmth of indoors.

Technoblade was running around doing something or other; as much time as the two spent together, it's not like Phil knew what the project-hounded player was doing 24/7. At the moment, Philza is smelting loads of various ores. Techno’s surplus is on the down-low and it never hurts to have too much material, Philza figured. Arriving at the end of the towering furnace wall closest to the door, Philza reaches into his inventory only to find it empty of anything to smelt.

“Pogchamp,” he comments absentmindedly, giving a quick glance towards Edward, who stood placidly by the fire. The enderman was a pleasant room mate, polite, if a bit shy. Lord knows how Techno had acquired him. Mind already on the next task, Philza spins briskly on his heel towards the door only to have it open abruptly in his face. 

It's Technoblade. More specifically, Technoblade’s bovine features derpy with concentration and proximity.

Philza jumps and inhales sharply in surprise, an unneeded surge of adrenaline jump-starting his heart and fluffing the feathers of his wings. Techno breezes past him, giving Philza an odd look as he passes, completely unaware of his role in jumpscaring Philza. Philza can’t help but chuckle hysterically under his breath at the fact, feathers smoothing back down as he watches Techno start rummaging through his chests, muttering indistinctly.

Still chuckling, he focuses back on stepping out of the house, door ajar behind him as he goes to lean against the guardrail, knees still shaky and face pointed towards the edge of the pine forest. “Jesus fucking christ,” He curses good-naturedly to himself, the image of Techno’s derpy, cross-eyed face popping back into his mind. “Like I’m playing a fucking horror game. Out of nowhere.” (The thought that other people would consider Technoblade’s very existence straight out of a horror game doesn’t occur to Phil. Sure, he logically knows that his best mate is intimidating, but it's not like he’s scared Phil outside of sudden jumpscares or almost getting killed in decades.) (Later, after the almost execution, Philza will give Techno a tight hug before smacking him over the top of his head.) ( _ ‘Don’t do that again.’ ‘I won’t, I won’t.’,  _ a pause, _ ‘I’ll make sure it never happens again.’) _

Philza turns his gaze from the dark pine forest to the clear blue sky. Something deep inside him itches to rise, to soar in never ending spirals and swoops; but not today, he still has work to do today. Netherite boots thudding down the smooth wooden steps, Philza finds himself immensely grateful for Technoblade’s presence to break up the monotony. With Wilbur a shade of what he once was ( _ His fault, his fault,  _ **_Philza’s fault_ ** ) and Tommy striking out on his own in exile, Philza doesn’t have much to preoccupy himself with besides these little projects with Techno.

He could do it alone easily, sure. Years of hardcore worlds and grand castles made of sand have said everything that needed to be said about Philza’s capabilities as a player. But… he prefers the company. Jumpscares and turtle farms and sneaking out of L’Manberg: with Technoblade comes color. Calm colors of inspiration, invention, and apple cider. Vibrant colors of violence, resurrection, and enchantments. Philza turns around to look back at the cabin from which he’d been trekking away from, all brown and white. Warm yellow light, and endless blue sky.  _ Yeah _ , he smiles tenderly, fondness pumping through his fragile, eternal heart,  _ this is good _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll !!  
> Have a nice fluffy chapter, you deserve it.  
> Fun fact that this scene was taken from a Techno and Phil friendship compilation.  
> Today I got accepted into one of my top 3 colleges, which is amazing and so, so reassuring. I got waitlisted and outright rejected from another 2 schools I was looking at a few days ago, which was unsettling, but the one I just got accepted to I by far prefer to either of those two schools, so, ::)  
> I hope everyone reading has a lovely day & drinks some water that really hits the spot.  
> Kudos and comments always appreciated, I love interacting with ya'll and hearing what you think !


End file.
